Mare
by dancewithitsghost
Summary: The ring was beautiful and full of character, but it was the story behind the piece of tarnished jewlery that encouraged Amelia Jennings to buy it. An old folk tale about a Norse god, an exchange of power, and immortal mares. What's a girl to do when she buys her way into the service of the God of Mischief? [Loki/OC]
1. The Best Part

**full summary:** The ring was beautiful and full of character, but it was the story behind the piece of tarnished bronze jewlery that encouraged Amelia Jennings to buy it. An old folk tale about a Norse god, an exchange of power, and immortal mares. What once was a perfect fit now seems a bit too tight, and - thinking little of it - Amelia turns her covers up and falls asleep with the ring warm around her finger. She wakes up in silken sheets, in the presence of someone she barely believes in, only to find that he holds her life in his very hands. What's a girl to do when she buys her way into the service of the God of Mischief?

"_Once I wanted something and got it. It was the only thing I ever wanted badly...and when I got it, it turned to dust in my hand._" - F. Scott Fitzgerald

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I've had this story floating around in my mind for a while now, and with my Loki obsession fully renewed by the Thor 2 trailer, I thought now would be a great time to post it! (: This takes place pre-Thor, but will eventually meet up with the Thor storyline (and maybe further story lines. Who knows? ;D) To those reading, I hope you enjoy the first chapter!

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Amelia spun the tarnished ring on her finger nervously, worrying her lower lip. The cold water running over her hand barely calmed her as she lathered her finger with soap that smelled of cherry blossom and almonds. When she'd soaped her hands completely, she took a deep breath, cautiously beginning to pull the ring from its position at the base of her finger, twisting it back and forth. It rose less than half an inch before Amelia felt the ring stop. She closed her eyes in frustration, pulling with a bit more force. The ring didn't budge.

_I don't understand_, she thought wildly. _Why won't it come off?_

The antique ring had been a perfect fit only hours ago. Now it seemed that with every attempt to remove it, the band tightened on its own, refusing to be separated. Amelia fell forward, letting her forehead knock into the bathroom mirror. She breathed heavily through her nose, letting the water clear her hands of the suds. _I'm out of ideas_, she thought. _I've tried butter and oil, soap and warm water, and plain old yanking sure isn't working. I don't know what else to do._ Sighing, she shut off the tap and dried her hands, glaring at the ring.

She had fallen in love with it the moment she'd seen it: the head of a horse, the band one long leg that ended in a solitary hoof that rested on the side of its snout. The ethnic shop that had opened up beside her favorite library was full of odds and ends from all over the world, and the shop owner – a soft-spoken old woman with thick dark hair – spoke to her about old folk tales that were associated with each item. The ring that had so captured her attention was supposedly an old relic devoted to a Norse god. If Amelia was honest, the story really was what sold her. Forged by his most loyal followers, the god blessed the ring to grant the wearer a fraction of his power. However, if the bearer turned out to be unworthy, he would be cursed to die a tragic death and become resurrected as an immortal mare, forced to serve the god forever.

Amelia mildly hoped it was true, if only to turn into a horse and be rid of the damn ring.

She gave the ring another useless tug, frowning. "Fine," she muttered underneath her breath. "I'll just sleep with it on. I'll deal with it tomorrow." _I'm sure I can find a jeweler who can cut it off._

Shaking her head, Amelia stepped out of her small bathroom and switched off the light, crossing into her bedroom. She stretched her arms widely, yawning. It had been a long day, and dealing with this ring had been an exhausting ordeal in and of itself. She crawled into bed, burrowing deep into the covers and letting them warm her bare legs.

She lay quiet, fingering the ring with her thumb mindlessly as she let her mind shut down. A heavy weight settled on her chest, and she was asleep within minutes.

* * *

Amelia's eyes fluttered open, and she let out a stuttered breath. Her throat was tight and her lungs felt chilled. She whined in the back of her throat, rolling onto her back and stretching. Every muscle in her body ached, and there were telltale signs of a dull throb in her temples.

"You're awake."

Amelia shot up in bed, the blood rushing quickly from her head and causing her vision to spin. The deep drawl startled her into high-alert, her nerves firing and boosting her adrenaline. When her vision cleared, she saw there was a man standing in front of her. He was built regally tall, imperially lean, all sharp angles and clear skin, and though his eyes were a wonderfully gentle green, they didn't look at all happy.

"Who are you?" she demanded, shuffling her legs. She gathered the sheet in between her fingers, tense as the man stepped forward ominously. "What are you doing in my room?"

His eyes tightened in a sharp glare. "Who are you to demand answers of me?" he asked through clenched teeth.

"Who are you to deny them?" Amelia snipped back. "Tell me what you're doing in my room!"

A ghost of a smirk spread across his lips. "You seem to be mistaken. Perhaps you'd like to take a look around. I can assure you quite adamantly that these are not your chambers."

At this, Amelia noticed that the sheets between her fingers felt…strange. They were soft like silk, and when she looked down at them, they were a gleaming gold and not the bland powder blue set that she had bought on sale the week after Christmas. She dropped them in shock, turning about and taking in the expansive room and extravagant décor: none of this was familiar, none of this was hers. In fact, this room looked bigger than her entire apartment. She blinked, her breath caught in her throat. Slowly, she turned her gaze back to the strange man. He took another step forward, his eyes lowered at her.

"They're mine."

The dark whisper sent chills down Amelia's spine, and her heart skipped a beat before she reacted the only way that came to mind: she screamed. Scrambling, Amelia tangled in the sheets and toppled out of the bed, landing on her side. She let out of gasp, fighting herself free of the fabric before standing clumsily, taking unconscious steps back and bumping into a large vanity table. A few of the items on its surface knocked about, falling over and rolling onto the floor. A few loose papers slipped off the edge and floated to the ground, landing on her bare feet. She gripped the edge of the table behind her, not taking her eyes off of the man as he advanced on her again.

"Stay away from me," she demanded quietly, trying to temper her fear. "Don't you dare come near me."

His eyes sparked to life, amusement dancing in their depths. "Are you frightened?" he asked with a malicious smirk.

"What? Of a GQ model? Don't hold your breath!" Amelia's retort was instinctive. She'd always had a sharp tongue, even in the worst of circumstances. It often got her into more trouble than out of it.

He was silent as he took her in, and she glared back at him as his eyes wandered. She glanced down at herself for a split second, remembering she was in her pajamas, which consisted of little more than a light tank top and tiny sleeping shorts. Flushing lightly, she turned her attention back to him. "What am I doing here?" she asked, her voice jumping up a pitch. "Did you kidnap me?"

"Hardly," he offered, his eyes narrowing again. "I merely came into my chambers to retire when I saw you had made yourself quite comfortable in my bed."

"You're crazy," Amelia returned. "I didn't just end up in your bed on my own. You had to have put me there!"

"I assure you," he said shortly, "if I were to put a woman in my bed, she would be of much higher breeding than you."

Amelia's mouth dropped open. "_What_?" she shrieked. "What did you just say to me, you pompous piece of shit?" She surged forward, her fear forgotten, and planted herself right in front of the man. "Now you listen to me, and you listen well." She poked his chest roughly. "I don't care how I got here or who you are. You are going to tell me where I am and then tell me how to get home, and you are going to do it _right now_." She emphasized her last two words with firm pokes to the chest, and she cocked out her hip, resting her free hand on it.

His face turned steely at her outburst, and her lowered his eyes to the hand that was still pointing at him fiercely. He opened his mouth for a split second before snapping it shut, something flashing in his eyes. The anger melted from his face and his mischievous smirk returned. Slowly, he brought his hand up at catch her own, encircling her fingers in his large palm. "Ah," he mused aloud, "now I understand." He chuckled to himself. "How _charming_." He turned his gaze back up to her, catching her eyes. "I see you've found my ring."

"I—what?" Amelia faltered, her arm going slack in his grip. As she looked to her hand, she suddenly remembered: the ring. The ring that she had bought yesterday that she hadn't been able to get off. "What are you talking about?"

Slowly, he ran his thumb over the base of her finger where the ring sat, smoothing along its tarnished surface. She stiffened. _The hell?_ "It has been years since I've seen this dreadful thing. I assumed it had been destroyed."

Yanking her hand away, Amelia took a step back. "What the hell are you on about? This is my ring; I bought it yesterday!"

"Oh, yes? And where exactly did you purchase it?" He raised a sculpted brow, seemingly amused.

"At—at a little antique shop. The woman at the shop told me it was forged in honor of an old God."

"Did she, indeed?" His eyes twinkled, and he was grinning now – actually grinning, as if he was finding this more and more enjoyable by the second. "Did she tell you anything else?"

"Just the story," Amelia offered in a wispy voice. "But what does it matter? This has nothing to do with the fact that you kidnapped me!"

"What was the story?" he asked, turning around and settling down on the bed. He lay down, stretching his long legs out and placing his arms behind his head.

"Who cares?" Amelia repeated. "And don't ignore me!" She stepped a little closer. "I said it had nothing to do with the fact that I'm here. Why did you bring me here? And how did you get into my house in the first place? I have like, three alarms!"

He turned his gaze to her fully, locking eyes with her and giving her a stern look. "Tell me the story."

As soon as he spoke the words, Amelia felt the skin of her finger underneath the band of the ring grow warm. Her brain became fuzzy, and before she could stop herself, she began to speak. "She said that the ring was forged by followers of an old Norse god. By forging it in his name, melting down a relic that was said to have belonged to the God, they summoned him. Seeing their loyalty, he blessed the ring to give the wearer a fraction of his power. But only if he deemed them worthy would the power of the ring work, and if he deemed them unworthy, the wearer was cursed to die a tragic death and become resurrected as a mare, forced to serve the god forever."

The smirk on his face could barely be contained. "How incredibly well-informed you are. I must admit, I hadn't expected you humans to be so thorough in your research. I assumed when I threw that dreadful ring into the Bifröst that it would land in one of your many oceans."

"…You threw it?" Amelia repeated slowly. He nodded. "Into the…Bifröst?" Another nod. "I'm—I—I don't—what?" What the hell was he talking about? And what the flying fuck was a _Bifröst_?

He chuckled again. "You humans," he mused. "So incredibly dull-witted. _Think_, girl. Surely by now you can make an educated guess as to what has happened." At her desperate expression, he quirked a brow again. "No? Then allow me to help you. I am, after all, your _gracious_ host." He sat up, leaning against the back of the headboard, one leg drawn up. "You say you purchased this ring in one of your shops." Amelia nodded slowly, wondering where on Earth this was going. "What happened afterwards?"

"Well, before I went to bed, I couldn't get it off." She looked to the ring again, giving it another useless tug. "It fit fine when I tried it on in the store, but now," she gave another mighty tug, hurting her finger, "it's stuck!"

"Very well. So, the ring cannot be taken off. You know the ring's history. What do you think happened?"

"You kidnapped me," Amelia responded immediately.

He rolled his eyes. "I most assuredly did not. I would never have taken one so infuriatingly dim." Amelia opened her mouth to retort, but he didn't let her. "In regards to the ring's history," he continued. "Knowing what you do about its origins, what do you think happened?"

"What are you talking about its origins?" Amelia asked, aggravated. "Those are just stories!"

"And assuming they aren't?"

"_Assuming they aren't?_" she repeated quietly. "Assuming they aren't, then I have at least a little bit of the power of a Norse god, so you better not piss me off anymore than you already have!"

"Now you're on the right track," he said smoothly. "Keep going."

"Wha?" _What is this guy's_ deal_?_ "Assuming they aren't," she continued slowly, "then…then, I – I don't know. The God would have to make the decision of whether or not I'm _worthy_. But how would he do that? He'd have to like, read my mind, or come see me himself?"

His smirk turned devilish. "Continue."

"I mean, assuming that they aren't just stories and I've got the powers of a Norse god, then, _hypothetically_, there would have to be a way for him to find out about me. And maybe he hasn't made up his mind, and that's the reason the ring won't come off. Maybe it's cursed to stay on until the god can make his choice – worthy or not. And if that's the case, the only thing left is the problem of how he would judge me. I mean, he would either have to pop down to Earth for tea, or—" Amelia's stomach dropped.

"Oh, don't stop now," he said in a rich voice. "You were just getting to the best part."

"If he didn't come to me," Amelia said softly, her lips quivering, "then I would have to…come to him." She looked up, her eyes wide. He stood slowly, moving to tower over her, his shadow enveloping her as he looked down upon her with fierce amusement. "Oh, God," she breathed. Her heart picked up its pace, and she tried to swallow the lump that formed in her throat. Tears sprang to the corner of Amelia's eyes as she stared up at him, her whole body trembling.

His lips curled in perverse pleasure. "Tell me your name," he demanded softly. The spell on the ring was still as strong as the day he had cast it, and he took great pleasure in using it once again. She was entirely at his disposal, and _oh_, he could imagine the possibilities.

"My name is Amelia." _Why did I tell him that?!_

"Amelia." He tasted the name on his lips. It seemed much too elegant a name for such a common mortal. He straightened himself, grabbing her hand again and smirking at the ring that had once been a part of his old armor.

"My name is Loki, of Asgard, and it seems you have bought your way into my service."

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So! That's that! First chapter! I hope everyone enjoyed, and if you have _any_ feedback at all, I'd be happy to hear it - good or bad! Until next time!

x


	2. The Ring is Binding

Guuuuys. I am truly honored the the kind reviews that were left on the first chapter. :) I am so happy to hear you are enjoying my little story! Thank you so much for the kind words, and I'm sorry about the long wait! Hopefully I can get on track with updating this story at a not-so-ridiculous schedule. Please enjoy chapter 2! :D

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**2. **

"You're crazy," she breathed. She yanked her hand away, tears threatening her eyes. "You're insane."

"Why is it that when you mortals don't understand something, you claim it to be abnormal?" Loki posed curiously. "It is never the fault of your own narrow minds."

"You really expect me to believe that you're a Norse god? You really think I'm that—that—gullible?"

"Gullible? No. Believing what I have to say would only prove that you have some semblance of intellect."

Amelia's eyes narrowed. _I'll show you intellect, you cow! _Swift as she could, she reached up and grasped one of the long golden horns of his helmet and yanked, pulling the ridiculous accessory off his head. Before she could even swing it round to hit him in the face with it (as had been her oh so very _intellectual_ plan), she let out a yell and fell to the ground, the weight of the headdress pulling her down. She gasped, landing painfully on her knees and letting her jaw drop open. She heard him chuckle and immediately reset her face in a stern frown as she attempted to pull the helmet back up. It lay innocently on the ground before her, deceiving her with its sleek and light design.

Loki kneeled down in front of her, resting an elbow on one knee. "Shall I help you?" he posed mockingly.

Amelia let out a quiet rumble from the back of her throat. "Fuck off," she said pointedly. She released the helmet and stood again, watching as Loki stood also. He pulled himself up regally, towering over her once again, that infuriating glint in his eye. He was enjoying her confusion, had enjoyed watching her struggle with the helmet – he was taking pleasure in every one of her plights. _Ass_, she thought bitterly.

"If you are a Norse god, _Loki_, then why don't you prove it to me? Show this poor, pathetic mortal the extent of your godly powers." _No way he can weasel out of this one. I'm not leaving here before I make him realize that he's full-crazy. Although…he must have some kind of superpowers to be able to wear that ridiculously heavy helmet._

"Normally I would never stoop so low as to prove myself to a mortal," Loki began lazily, "but for my new servant, I believe I will make an exception." He smirked. "Allow me to demonstrate."

"Go ahead then," Amelia challenged, childishly sticking out her tongue.

Loki's smirk grew, and he shook his head softly. "Put your tongue back in your mouth, you foolish girl."

Immediately, Amelia slipped the appendage back through her lips. Frowning, she shook her head minutely, confused. _Why did I do that? And what's…that? _She turned her attention to the ring, where the skin underneath the band was warm and tingling.

"Kneel before me," Loki continued. This girl would be much too easy to subjugate; her fierce temper was only a front for her frail resolve.

"What?" Amelia asked loudly. "No way!" But even as the words left her lips, she felt her body gravitating towards the ground, her knees brushing against the soft carpet once again. Her eyes widened. _What's going on?_ she thought. _It's like I don't have any control over my own body. _"What did you do?" she asked quietly. "What did you do to me?"

"Oh, owning the ring of a god does not come without its perks," he assured her, circling around her kneeling body. "Did you think I would offer up a fraction of my power to mere mortals without a bit of insurance?" He tapped her bare ankle with the tip of his boot, thrilled at her wide eyes. "In exchange for a fraction of my power," he continued, "the ring grants me a fraction of yours: the power of free will. In case you ever _step out of line_, I have the ability to draw you back in."

Amelia stood suddenly, causing him to stop in his tracks. She clenched her fists at her sides. "So you're telling me that you can just…_control_ me whenever you want?"

"Oh, yes," he said charismatically. "But you needn't fear. I only intend to use it when you're being unreasonable." He grinned."Now what shall I have you do next? I know. You have delayed me from my rest long enough. Help me prepare for bed."

Amelia blew a raspberry at him, folding her arms across her chest. "No." The skin underneath the band of the ring grew warm again, and she shuffled her fingers uncomfortably.

"Do not think to defy me, girl. Come forth and remove my breastplate."

Her face flushed a deep pink and she sputtered, trying to keep her composure. "I—in your dreams!"

Loki's eyes narrowed. "Come forth and remove my breastplate," he repeated sternly.

"No!" she returned forcefully.

This time when Amelia felt the band of the ring go warm, she tried to fight the pull of her legs, tried to will her arms to stay at her sides, but the more she fought, the hotter the ring grew, and she finally cried out when it burned the sensitive skin of her finger. Her body flew towards Loki's as soon as she stopped resisting, and tears threatened the corners of her eyes. Loki reached forward to gently move the ring up her finger a bit, staring at the bright red flesh. He tutted, shaking his head. "I will be gracious this once, but remember that this is what happens when you try to resist." He closed his fingers around the burn, whispering words that Arianna didn't understand. A deep chill seemed to seep into her finger, going straight to the bone, and she shivered, closing her eyes. When she reopened them, Loki had removed his hand and she stared at the base of her finger, now perfectly pale and no longer aching.

Her mouth dropped open. "How did you do that?"

"I am skilled in many types of sorcery," he said simply. "Healing a small burn is child's play."

"No, but I mean—_sorcery_?"

"You did ask for a demonstration," he teased.

Her mind spun, and she felt her head grow light. "Oh, man," she breathed. "Sorcery. He's a sorcerer. He does magic." Amelia stepped away, holding a hand to the side of her head. She took in deep, steady breaths. "You really are him. You're a…a god."

"Indeed. And now that we're done with show and tell, I believe I ordered you to remove my breastplate."

With numb hands, Amelia moved towards him and fumbled with the contraption before finding the latches and undoing them. She pulled the heavy garment off his shoulders, and in another effort to be rebellious, threw it haphazardly to the floor. Loki sighed. "I suppose your bitterness is to be expected. No need to worry, though. I will relieve you of your attitude soon enough."

"That'll be pretty difficult, considering I'm gonna' blow this joint the first chance I get."

"You are my new servant. Do you think I will let you leave so easily?"

"You're missing the point, bud. Ain't about what you think. I'm out of here whether you like it or not."

"And if I were to absolutely forbid you from leaving?" Loki asked haughtily.

Amelia narrowed her eyes. "You wouldn't dare," she said slowly.

Loki chuckled. "Tell me your full name."

Amelia bit her tongue, but when the ring began to scald her finger, she yelped. "Amelia Jennings! _Fuck_! Stop it!"

"Amelia Jennings," Loki began lowly, "you are absolutely forbidden to leave my service unless I release you from it. You are to be my personal handmaid and follow my every command, and you are not to leave my side without my explicit permission. And be forewarned, a small burn on your finger is not the only punishment you will receive if you attempt to defy me again."

Amelia felt her face heat up in anger. She felt the tingling on her finger spread through her entire body, and she shivered despite herself. "You—you! You absolute _ass_!" she screamed. "How dare you!" She shoved Loki hard in the chest, making immediately for the door. "You're a piece of shit, and I'm not going to stand around here any longer! I'm leaving!" She yanked open the door, and raised her foot to step beyond the threshold, but at that exact moment, her entire body stiffened. She willed herself to move, but her body seemed to be frozen in time. She shuffled her eyes, hearing Loki's footsteps behind her.

"You intend to leave, but I have forbidden you to do so. If you'd like to move again, try turning around."

Grudgingly, she set her mind to turning around, and her body followed her will smoothly. "This is bullshit," she spat. "Fix it! I'm not going to follow you around like a puppy. And I'm certainly not going to be your servant!"

Loki grinned again. "I'm afraid you don't have a choice. I will not renounce the command."

"Oh yeah?" she challenged. "We'll see about that." _How the hell am I going to get out of this? Wait! Loki of Asgard. Let me see, didn't he have a father? Odeon? Odeen? No, Odin! That's it! If there's a chance that I can find someone else, especially Odin…_ "Help!" she called out suddenly, backing away from Loki. As long as she was facing him, she wasn't technically trying to leave his presence, right? "Help! Someone help me!"

Loki rolled his eyes, following her lazily, his arms folded across his chest. "And just what do you hope to accomplish with all that screeching? You are my servant. There is not a soul inside this palace who can assist you now."

"Oh, no? What about Daddy-dearest? Surely he won't take too kindly to your kidnapping someone from another world?"

Loki laughed outright. "You don't mean to say," he continued, still chuckling, "that you intend to _tattle_ on me? You ridiculous child."

"I'll do whatever it takes to get away from you," she said lowly. She raised her voice, catching his gaze sternly. "I'm not going to be held a prisoner here!"

"Loki."

The deep voice made her blood run cold. Her back straightened, a shiver wracking her spine. Amelia turned around slowly, her eyes landing on the unyielding figure before her. The aged man was rigid, his face strict and serious. A deep frown marred his features, and his brow was furrowed.

"Father," Loki said tightly.

"Father?" Amelia whispered. _Man, this is Odin? He's scarier than I thought he'd be. Either way, though… _"Hey, listen here. Your son has—"

"I am well aware of what Loki has done, young woman," he said firmly. "Come. We will move to the throne room. We will discuss this further."

"What?" she squawked. "You're kidding me, right? We don't need to discuss anything. Just tell him to send me back!"

"That is no way to address the Allfather," Loki said severely from behind her. "Apologize, you mindless human."

Amelia bit her tongue, breathing out angrily through her nose as the ring began to warm. "Sorry," she spat out disingenuously.

"You have already bound her to you," the Allfather said, his frown deepening.

"The bond was made before she appeared here," Loki said passively. "There was little I could do to stop it."

The Allfather sighed, hanging his head. Amelia could tell that, despite his authoritarian demeanor, he was weary. _Maybe he's ill_, she thought suddenly. _He does look a bit…er, ancient. _"To the throne room with us, then," he said slowly, turning his back. He made his way out of Amelia's sight and she frowned, following him on unsteady feet.

"Where do you think you are going?" Loki questioned from behind her suddenly.

"To the throne room, you moron," she responded immediately. "I'd rather listen to him than to you." One foot managed to make it over the threshold before her body froze once more, her ability to move inhibited by the spell. "God damnit!" she yelled, turning around.

Loki smirked at her irritation, stepping forward. The tunic that rested underneath his armor would have to suffice for their audience. If he commanded the girl to redress him, she was likely to hold them for hours with her complaints, and the Allfather did not like to be kept waiting. He offered his arm to her. "We will enter the throne room appropriately."

She narrowed her eyes. "I hope you don't expect me to touch you willingly, you pompous jackass."

"Certainly not," Loki returned, rolling his eyes towards the ceiling. "You will take my arm, Amelia Jennings, and I will escort you to the throne room as is expected of a prince." Loki saw her eyes flash and he graced her with a mocking smirk. "And you will not let go."

Amelia cursed underneath her breath, reluctantly winding one arm through Loki's. The touch made her stomach churn, and she frowned deeply. Loki began to lead her out of the room, and with each step she took, the weight of her situation began to settle into her mind. With each step further into the elegant hallway, she began to realize there was no way she could be on Earth. The marvelous sight of a grand foyer, spotless marble molded into illustrious columns that lined the shiny, granite floor: her mind spun like a top, all the thoughts tangling together. Her sudden appearance, her inability to resist his commands, the healing of her finger – she was beginning to get a headache, and she longed to lay down, go back to sleep, and wake up from this nightmare. As they entered what must have been the throne room, she felt the air leave her body in a great sigh. The shining gold interior made her dizzy, the grandness of scale making her feel inferior. It was all so magnificent, royal. _Worthy of the Gods_, she thought in measured awe.

Loki led them up to the front of the room, and bowed his head to the Allfather, who had returned to the throne. "Bow," he hissed lowly, leering sidelong at her.

Amelia glared right back, making a show of curtseying ridiculously. "Your Highness," she said sarcastically.

Loki turned towards her fully, his hard eyes bearing down on her. She didn't flinch away from the gaze, refusing to be intimidated by him. "What?" she snapped. "I _did_ what you said."

"Impertinent girl!" Loki snapped. "You make a mockery of the Allfather. I will not allow you to disrespect—"

"Loki," the Allfather said sternly. "That is enough. Explain what has happened here."

Amelia glanced to the man at her side, who seemed to be trying very hard to hide his sudden delight. "The Ring of the Mare."

Odin's eyes widened furiously. "Loki, I explicitly told you to destroy that wretched ring!"

"Oh, but Father, I thought I had." The tactful innocence in his voice made Amelia want to vomit. "You yourself watched me throw it into the Bifröst. How was I to know it would land in Midgard?" Standing with his arms behind his back casually, the ghost of his smirk whispered on his lips.

Odin's frown steeply as he realized he had no rebuttal. "How is it that the ring brought her to Asgard?" he demanded. "That power is meant to lay solely with the Bifröst."

"I know not," Loki admitted readily. "I do not have the authority to summon beings of other realms, nor should the ring."

Amelia looked distastefully down at the ring that was still snugly round her finger. She gave it a great yank, hissing when it snagged on her knuckle.

"The ring is binding, you ridiculous girl. Tugging won't help you."

"Yeah? Well, what if I tug something else? Like your head? Off your shoulders? Would the ring come off then?" Amelia glared at him ferociously.

"Your petty threats hardly frighten me," he responded lazily.

Amelia huffed. "If you're so powerful, why don't _you_ just take it off?" she asked, waving an arm expressively.

"Are you deaf? The ring is binding. It cannot be taken off until it has fulfilled its purpose."

"Purpose? What purpose?" Amelia asked loudly. "There is no purpose!"

"Oh, there's a purpose, rest assured." Loki's eyes darkened, and Amelia took half a step back, the dark flash of his eyes making her spine quiver.

"Enough, Loki," Odin said sternly. "You needn't worry, child. No harm will come to you here." He fixed his gaze on his son.

"Worry?" Amelia repeated, clearing her throat. "Who's worried?" She fisted the bottom of her shirt, her stomach churning. "Just send me back home and we'll all be back to our lives."

Odin nodded. "You wish to go back to your own world – I understand this, but unfortunately, it is not so easily cured."

Her eyes snapped open. "Why?" she demanded immediately.

Odin turned his gaze to Loki, who sighed. "Amelia Jennings," he began quietly, "you are free to leave my presence."

Amelia blinked, confused. "What?"

"You are free to leave my sight," Loki repeated. "Why not try to leave the room?"

Amelia pushed out her lower lip in surprise. "Don't have to tell me twice," she muttered, turning on her heel. She walked swiftly to the door of the throne room, smiling as two guards pushed it open for her. She walked through, her head held high.

_Uh, not that I know where I'm going, but…Whatever. At least I'm away from that jackass._ She strolled a bit further into the foyer, taking in the sights, folding her hands behind her back. _This place is actually pretty nice,_ she thought offhandedly. _Really beautiful. Oh! Look, there's the gay rainbow bridge_! She shielded her eyes from the sun as she peered out the window into the distance, watching the way it shone in the light. _I wonder what—hey, what is…that…_

Amelia cried out, holding the side of her head as a sharp pain ripped through it. She collapsed to her knees, tears forming at the corner of her eyes as the throbbing pain spread quickly throughout her body, each of her limbs burning. Her throat began to close up, and she struggled to breathe. She gasped, gripping her hair tightly and trying to keep her eyes in focus.

As soon as she heard his voice, the pain began to ebb. "I will say it once more: the ring is binding. Not only is it bound to your finger; the ring binds you to _me_. Return to the throne room."

Still in shock, Amelia followed him quietly, the dimness at the corner of her eyes fading slowly. She stopped in front of the throne once again, Loki's hand on her lower back. With her will to fight seeping out her ears, she didn't have the energy to pull away from the touch.

"As you can see," Odin said, tightening his grip on his staff, "you cannot leave Loki's presence –I suspected as much. Not only that, but without knowing how you came to be here, it may prove difficult to send you back to Midgard."

Amelia stuttered. "D-difficult? You mean you can't do it?" She turned to Loki. "You can do it, can't you? This is your stupid ring! Make it send me back!"

"I'm afraid I can do nothing. The Ring was not meant to bring you to Asgard – that was not in the original enchantment."

"Loki," Odin spoke tightly. "Is there nothing you can do? She speaks the truth. That wretched ring answers to you. Can you not remove it?"

"I cannot. As I have said, the ring cannot be removed until it has fulfilled its purpose. However, if the ring brought her here of its own will, then the enchantment on it may have been damaged."

"Can you repair it?"

"There may be a possibility. I would need to examine it closely, perhaps experiment, to find out exactly what has happened to it."

"And these experiments?" Odin narrowed his eyes.

Loki shrugged. "There are a handful of them that will not harm her."

"A handful," Amelia repeated. "Oh, that's very reassuring." She sighed. "Why can't Loki and I just use the Bifröst to go back?"

"The predicament would be much the same," Odin responded. "Loki would be stranded on Midgard with you until he was able to repair the enchantment."

Amelia blinked, her eyes burning. She turned between father and son – King and Prince, both gods, the stuff of legend right before her eyes. She began to sway, her knees growing weak. _What am I doing here?_ she thought desperately, pressing a hand tightly over her mouth. Breathing through her nose, she hung her head and felt the warm tears slip down her cheeks.

_What am I going to do?_

* * *

So there you have it! As always, feedback/criticism/words of love (or hate) are welcome! Your voice keeps mine going! (; Until next chapter! x


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